Can I Find Love Through Groupon?

I had to change. I'd reached rock bottom. It was time to get a life and Groupon was my tool. A Narnia of discounts, a wardrobe into a magical otherworld full of adventure. And since then I've become a Lord, changed my name by Deed Poll to "Max Groupon", and bought property on the planet Mars.

For the past year I've been doing a new Groupon deal every week. It wasn't meant to be like this. I was meant to do just a few initially, but it snowballed, and here I am: addicted. In two hours' time I'm having a colonic. Again. I've already had one, back in January, but my brother's bought me another for a laugh and I'm too polite to say no. Since November last year I've done everything and anything: spray tans, baby scans, alpaca trekking, bee-keeping and on and on and on.

You're probably wondering how I came to do all this mad stuff. The story starts in November last year. I was having a coffee with my ex-girlfriend. Roughly two years previously she dumped me because I wasn't "spontaneous" enough, (whereupon I spontaneously burst into tears).

Every six months or so we have a catch-up, you know, so she can tell me about her great life. And so here we were, in the Putney branch of Costa coffee. As we awkwardly sip our lattes, she asks me the question she always asks me, "So, what's new with you?" And I had nothing to say. I never had anything to say.

The thing is, doing something new requires a sense of adventure. But I've never had one. Not even when I was a kid. Children are meant to be fearless, excited, energetic, but here I am, five years old, on the beach:

Am I building sand castles, looking for crabs, going for a swim? No. I'm sat alone reading the paper.

Cut to 21 years later, the boy is now a man and having coffee with his ex. The 24 months since we broke up had been empty. I was spending my free-time home, alone, doing nothing. Trapped in an internet labyrinth of tits and trivia. But I couldn't say that. Not to my ex-girlfriend. So I lied.

"What's new with me? God! Loads actually... like, ummm... it turns out: I love olives!".

"Great", she said. "I'm glad everything's going so well".

I had to change. I'd reached rock bottom. It was time to get a life and Groupon was my tool. A Narnia of discounts, a wardrobe into a magical otherworld full of adventure. And since then I've become a Lord, changed my name by Deed Poll to "Max Groupon", and bought property on the planet Mars. From a deep rut I've slowly emerged a new man, having rediscovered my passion for life, resuscitated by the oxygen of new experience.

But it's suddenly begun to feel a bit superficial. Groupon doesn't hold the same mystique that it once did. Back in November, I thought filling up my life with new experiences, new things, would make it feel less empty. I poured Groupons into my life, as if were a bucket, believing that once it was full I'd be happy again. But the thing is, I've realised that life isn't like a bucket at all: it's got a massive hole in the bottom. It's more of a tube. You can never fill the bucket up, it's futile. If you want to be happy, you've got to somehow transcend the bucket. It dawned on me that what I really need is love. And I thought: "Groupon has solved every other problem in my life, perhaps they can solve this one too?" So I put out a plea to Groupon: help me find love by selling a date with me on your site. You can watch the video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5rPOLGaMZLE

And they said yes! From today you can buy a date with me on Groupon. It's totally free, I'm literally giving myself away. And if you ask me "So, what's new with you?" I now have a very long answer. Anyone can buy the voucher, which is dangerous for me. I could end up going on a date with a fifty-year old male cockle-picker from the Shetland Islands. Two years ago I had a stalker: I might end up going for tapas with her. Or I might end up having a candle-lit dinner with my Mum who, true to Valentine's Day form, will definitely buy a voucher in case no-one else does.

So, if you're a sassy singleton looking for a giggle then why not make a purchase? We'll have a fun evening and you'll end up being name checked in my Edinburgh Festival stand-up show all about My Groupon Adventure this August. After-all, in the words of my brother when presenting me with a colonic irrigation voucher, "Why not?"

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